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 consummate art his influence over her. There was something satanic in his deliberation, yet in actual time it was almost incredible that he could have changed the old abhorrence with which she regarded him into that hungry passion. Margaret could not now realise her life apart from his. At length he thought the time was ripe for the final step.

“It may interest you to know that I’m leaving Paris on Thursday,” he said casually, one afternoon.

She started to her feet and stared at him with bewildered eyes.

“But what is to become of me?”

“You will marry the excellent Mr. Burdon.”

“You know I cannot live without you. How can you be so cruel?”

“Then the only alternative is that you should accompany me.”

Her blood ran cold, and her heart seemed pressed in an iron vice.

“What do you mean?”

“There is no need to be agitated. I am making you an eminently desirable offer of marriage.”

She sank helplessly into her chair. Because she had refused to think of the future it had never struck her that the time must come when it would be necessary to leave Haddo or to throw in her lot with his definitely. She was seized with a complete revulsion. Margaret realised that, though an odious attraction bound her to the man, she loathed and feared him. The scales fell from her eyes. She remembered on a sudden Arthur’s great love and all that he had done for her sake. She utterly